Lament of the Gravedigger
by DragonDroppings
Summary: After years of digging graves, Jericho Bermuda is used to death. He does not shed away from it; he is even the cause of it. But the lives he has taken carry much more weight in the heart of the foreigner, Alice. Lost in the country of Diamond after a terrible tragedy, she turns to him. But nothing is what is seems, for all has changed. The past will not be ignored. JerichoxAlice


**_First chapter in my newest series: Lament of the Gravedigger! This is a gift, at the request of supersushicupcake! I hope you enjoy~ ^^_**

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The tiny silver bell sweetly twinkled as a customer entered the shop. Hearing the gentle call, Alice quickly dusted her flour caked hands on her apron. The soft powder left white smudges against the blue, but Alice took little notice. She pushed the door open, entering the front room.

"Welcome!" Alice greeted her customer. He was a tall, dark haired faceless man, dressed in a long sleeved black jacket and pants cut off at his calves. At the sound of Alice's voice, he jumped, snapping his attention away from the cheerfully decorated pastries.

"A-ah…" He nervously tugged on a stray edge of his jagged bangs. "Yes. Um… Thank you." Alice smiled; she recognized this faceless. He stopped by the bakery frequently to pick up sweet rolls.

"The usual?" Alice asked, hands poised over the bakery tongs. But instead of his typical enthusiasm, her customer shifted uncomfortably.

"Actually, today I'm here for my boss…" He let his voice trail off hesitantly, looking away. There was a faint flush on his cheeks, almost as if he was ashamed that he wasn't buying 'the usual'.

"Oh," Alice tilted her head. "Then what will your boss be having?"

"Package of puff pastries, please," he murmured.

"Wonderful," Alice nodded. She busied herself packaging the delicate desserts in the shop's fancily decorated boxes. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the faceless pulling on his bangs again. It was something of an idiosyncrasy and he didn't seem to notice it himself. Alice fought back a grin; he was quite cute, truth be told. She had really come to like him. He was one of the few people in the country of Diamond who treated her kindly.

Alice's first month in the new country had been very hard. Transitioning from the country of Hearts was a long and lonely road. In the country of Hearts, Alice had been a beloved foreigner, treated with adoration. But here, the citizens were cold and withdrawn from her. Friendly faces, good friends… None of them had transferred over. She had been completely alone.

"Here you are," Alice cheerfully called, placing the pastries on the table. In return for guaranteed protection, the shop Alice worked in gave the sweets to her faceless friend's group free of charge. His boss was apparently the leader of a mafia. While she found this hard to believe, due his sweet nature, she didn't question it. She had never seen anyone else from the group besides this particular faceless, and if it was the truth, she would rather keep it that way. Alice had encountered the mafia in the country of Hearts, and she had grown fond of them, it was true, but here everything had been flipped. There was no way to say if the mafia would be dangerous to her or not.

"Um…" The faceless glanced at her hesitantly. "I…"

"Yes?" Alice patiently waited, a content smile on her face.

"Well…" He tugged on his bangs. "I think…" His voice fell short, and he tried again. "I think… I think I'll have the sweet rolls after all."

Bright, delighted peals of laughter filled the small shop. Alice's shoulders shook with the unrestrained amusement. She couldn't help it; he had worked himself into a huff over buying some sweet rolls!

"H-hey," he weakly protested, pink coloring his cheeks. "I just wanted sweet rolls…" But his attempts only served to make her laugh harder.

"Y-you," she exclaimed between fits, "Is t-that what you were so w-worried about?"

"Well…" He looked away. But the bright blush on his cheeks wasn't just embarrassment; he was secretly pleased that he had made her laugh.

Alice took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself. She wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Alright," she softly said, still chuckling, "Sweet rolls it is."

"Y-yes…" He ducked his head, hiding his eyes. He was still embarrassed, but happy so far as she could tell.

"Ah!" Alice stopped. "I just remembered; you're early today! If you're willing to wait a bit, I'll have a fresh batch out of the oven."

"… I don't mind waiting."

"Perfect!" She clapped her hands together. "The owner asked me to use a new recipe today. He will be very pleased that you're willing to try it!"

Alice owed the faceless for more than just his friendship; he was the one who had gotten her the job working in the bakery. The owner and he were on good terms, and he had spoken on her behalf when no one else would give her time of day.

"New recipe?" He looked a little miffed. "I like yours…"

Alice's heart warmed a little. "Oh, then you have nothing to worry about! This one's an original of mine, too. I let the owner try it and he liked it enough to add it in. Fear not; you won't have to eat the owner's poisonous sweet rolls." He gave her a relieved nod.

"_Excuse me_, but did I just hear someone insulting _my_ sweet rolls?" A voice trilled from the back room as the door flew open. The owner of the store marched in, parking himself beside Alice. He was a few inches shorter than she was, but his massive muscles told a much different story than his height. Years of lifting heavy bags and grinding flour by hand had refined his body, and given him a lasting reputation that had kept his shop safe over the years.

Unsurprised by his timely arrival, Alice raised one brow. He had supposedly been sleeping in the house attached to the bakery, but more likely than not, he had been listening the entire time.

"I'll have you know that _my_ sweet rolls were what kept this place going, missy," the owner boasted. It was a flat out lie; the owner had, for some unfathomable reason, never been able to make a proper sweet roll. He was a master at every item in his bakery, from the cakes to the freshly baked bread; even his decorating skills were praiseworthy. But not one edible sweet roll had passed through his hands; something that bothered him incessantly and Alice knew it.

"_Your_ sweet rolls were what kept killing customers," she countered. The owner put a hand over his heart, as though she had hurt him.

"No such thing!" He cried in mock outrage, "Not one customer has died while they were in my shop!"

"Maybe not while they were in," she agreed, "But certainly after."

"Oh," he exclaimed, "You gloat simply because you cannot understand the perfection of my sweet rolls!" With one hand still on his heart, he began to explain, in great detail, the merits of his sweet rolls. A happy smile played across Alice's face as she listened. This was a routine she was familiar and comfortable with. In her first weeks of working, the owner, too, had been cold towards her. It was a mean looking, rough speaking demeanor that he showed most of the world. Being a bakery didn't give him a very fearsome reputation to begin with. So, to make up for his line of work, he had made himself seem fearsome. Truthfully, though, he had a good heart. As the weeks passed, he warmed towards Alice. The owner allowed her to live in the house attached to the bakery free of charge, and provided her with meals every day. Being the small shop it was, her wages were slim, meager even, but Alice didn't have any complaints. She was both safe and happy where she was.

A clock chimed from the back room, shaking Alice from her reverie.

"The sweet rolls!" Interrupting the impassioned owner in the middle of his grand speech, she hurried into the back room. As the door swung shut, she heard the end of his protests.

Hastily, Alice pulled a pair of oven mitts over her hands, and opened the oven doors. The heat instantly whooshed over her face, making the air roll and ripple. The delicious aroma of cinnamon and baked bread drifted through the air. Alice cast a practiced eye over the sweet rolls. Grabbing a toothpick from a nearby cabinet, she pressed it into the pastry.

_Perfect_.

Delighted, Alice pulled the sweet rolls from the oven and placed them on top of the stove. She closed the oven doors and tossed her gloves, basking in the gentle scents of baking. In a matter of minutes, the specially baked rolls would cool, and she would package them for her faceless friend.

Alice considered throwing in an extra dessert or two… Maybe a Danish? Besides his precious sweet rolls, he did have something of a soft spot for Danishes. If she tried to outright give it to him, he would probably get flustered and try to refuse; despite his 'free pass' on pastries, he never exceeded his personal limit of desserts. Alice supposed it was in hopes of helping preserve business; if he was always taking their desserts for free, they'd lose a lot of money.

In that case… Alice would have to sneak it in when he wasn't paying attention. She was already forming a plan in her head. It was kind of ridiculous, really, in a funny sort of way; her idea of a prank was to give him a gift.

Alice heard a loud bang as the front door slammed open. She frowned; there was really no need to push it so hard. But her heart began to pick up when she heard the voices speaking. Those weren't the voices of regular customers; even muffled through the thick walls, she could make out the undertones of anger. She really hoped they weren't here to start a fight. Small groups had entered the bakery before, intending to intimidate the owner into surrendering his territory. But no one had ever actually done any real harm; under the protection of her friend's boss, and the owner's reputation, none dared attack them.

Alice moved to push on the door, but a voice called to her.

"Stay where you are, and stay quiet, Alice." It was the owner. His voice was hushed and urgent. Alice felt a chill; they had taken precautions in the past, but never had he spoken to her like that. He almost sounded… Scared.

The voices rose, speaking faster, with an edge of warning. Alice couldn't make out what they were saying, but she heard the owner answer in a low, appeasing manner.

"There isn't any need for that. They left us without any further details." The strangers responded, this time in a deep growl.

"Gentlemen, there's no need for-"

There came a great, earsplitting crack, like lightening had cleaved the shop in two. Alice clutched her ears, hurting even through the muffling walls. Her heart was in her mouth pounding louder than thunder, her breathing heavy and panicked. What?! Just what?! She couldn't place what had just happened, but it sounded awfully like…

Alice stopped herself. She didn't want to consider the possibilities. Everyone was alright. The owner was always alright. Her friend was always alright. Whatever that noise had been, it was gone. The owner would explain everything to her when she came out. _There. That was better, wasn't it?_

Desperately trying to control her breath, Alice brought her shaking hands away from her ears. Footsteps faded into the emptiness, letting the shop fall into silence.

She waited.

There was no sound.

Alice pushed on the door, but it wouldn't budge. She tried again, harder this time.

_Nothing_.

"Owner?" Her tentative voice gently called out. But there was no response. Alice pushed on the door.

Then there came a soft rustle, like cloth rubbed against stone. Alice pressed her ear to the door, carefully listening.

There it was again!

"Owner?" A muted groan answered her this time. Alice kicked the door, trying to force it open. It only moved a quarter of an inch.

"Alice," the owner murmured. His voice was strained and weak. The sound of it scared her.

"Y-yes?" She stood high on her toes, desperately trying to spy through the window in the door. The owner had complained about the height of the window on many occasions. But where the memory of him scoffing, grumpily standing on a footstool had once amused her, it now frustrated her. She could only just barely make out the shape of the owners boots at the bottom of her view. He was lying down, in front of the door. That's why she couldn't open it!

"Leave, Alice…" The owner continued.

"What happened, Owner," she cried, pounding her fist on the door, "What's going on?!"

"It was…" There came a harsh, guttural cough. "It was the Dodo…"

"What dodo?! Owner, I don't understand!"

Softly, the owner sighed, but did not elaborate any further. Alice heard the sound, and desperately hammered a fist against the door, hoping that it would-

Slide open.

With a gentle swish, the door opened wide. The shop was just as she had left it, no counter had been damaged. No money had been stolen, no windows broken. But there was a prettily decorated box, crushed in the center of the floor.

_And there was a single, golden clock, resting by the door against a canvas of red._

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**_Urk... I apologize for the lengthy introduction of minor characters. I just wondered... Well, couldn't it be possible for her to form friendships with the faceless, too? Especially if the role-holders ostracize her... Just some thoughts. Please let me know if this is too inaccurate for you, or too long, or anything like that... I would love feedback, as I have yet to obtain a beta reader... :'_**

**_Anyway, thank you for reading my new little story! I hope you enjoyed! (Especially you, supersushicupcake! Please tell me if there are any changes you'd like me to make!) Next chapter things should start to pick up~ :)_**

**_I hope this wasn't to dramatic, or cheesy for you guys. I tried to form some sort of attachment to 'the owner'. And what happened to her other friend? *sarcastic gasps* Find out next chapter! *maybe*_**


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